Tears from the Sky
by InfinityStar
Summary: Alex contemplates her partner as they bury his mother.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I never will, but it is with deep and lasting gratitude to Dick Wolf that I borrow them for just a little while. Thank you, Mr. Wolf.

Tears from the Sky

Alexandra Eames stood silently at the graveside. The crisp, late October wind sent a gathering of brown leaves scurrying in a game of tag about the gathered mourners. Beside her, her partner, Robert Goren, was quiet. Too quiet…for him that is. Goren was always muttering something, moving something, a study in perpetual motion. Seeing him so still and so quiet disturbed her very deeply. She risked a sideways glance. She had seen him explode with fury; she had seen him implode into himself. She'd seen him smile—really smile—and she had seen his pain. But she had never seen him so _still_. She moved her hand and gently laid it on his arm.

Startled, he looked at the small woman beside him. He smiled sadly, laid his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. He returned his eyes to the casket in front of them.

God, he looked tired. He slept little enough as it was; she wondered if he'd gotten any real sleep over the past week. His mind was eternally busy, never allowing him to get much sleep. But he didn't seem to need much sleep. His overabundance of energy had to be burned off somehow, not replenished by sleep. Sleep served to re-sharpen his mind, but that required less sleep for him than it did for other people who needed sleep to regenerate. She had rarely seen him exhausted; she had never seen him out of energy.

On her other side was James Deakins, their captain. No one put up with Bobby's quirks and oddities like he did…no one but her. There weren't many others around the grave, being bombarded by the whirlwind of leaves beneath the huge tree. She was actually shocked to see Mike Logan there with his partner Carolyn Barek. Barek had probably dragged him along, most likely against his will. There was no love lost between Mike and Bobby. Even so, Logan looked appropriately solemn. She appreciated that and made a mental note to thank him later. Ron Carver, their ADA, was there, too, to offer support. Bobby often frustrated the hell out of him, but he liked the big detective who made his job so much easier…usually. There were a few others, mostly doctors, nurses and aides who had cared for her for so long and formed an affectionate attachment to her. A small group…but Bobby had told her that was the way she would have wanted it. No big fuss. 'Just say good-bye and get on with your life, Bobby.'

The priest was done praying. He closed his book and gave the benediction. The gathered mourners came over and offered more condolences to him. Logan even shook Bobby's hand in an almost companionable way. She watched him go through the motions almost mechanically, accepting a brief kiss on the cheek from some of the female mourners. He thanked the priest, who had been her priest and confessor at Carmel Ridge the entire time she'd been a patient there. To the best of Bobby's knowledge, this priest had never been one of 'them' in his mother's confused mind. He shook the priest's hand, saying how much he had appreciated the nice things he had said about her. She deserved to be remembered fondly, he said. But would Bobby ever remember her fondly? she wondered. She hoped that in time he would. Fifteen more minutes, and she was alone with her partner.

So…what now? She never knew what to expect from him, although she did know what NOT to expect. No hysteria. That just wasn't Bobby. No crying. She had already seen those tears. No regrets. Bobby always had regrets…but not this time. This time he had done everything just right and even he had admitted that. In fact, she had been with him when the news came, after dinner, a week ago. She had driven him out to Carmel Ridge that night. She had stood nearby as he held his dying mother's hand when her soul returned to her Maker and her tortured mind finally rested peacefully. She had stayed with him all that night, sharing his pain and his tears, feeling his grief, caressing his hair as he finally faded off to sleep near dawn. No, he had done nothing wrong. He had been a good son. He had called every day for 10 years. That was 3650 phone calls. He had visited her every week. 520 visits, not counting special occasions, like holidays and her birthday. He had been there for every crisis; he had suffered through every subsequent break with reality.

At the end, probably the last six months, she had taken her final trip. She had retreated into her own reality, and not even Bobby had been able to bring her back. He had suffered mightily because of her illness, questioning his own grasp on reality at times. A lifetime of pain from the one person who was never suppose to inflict suffering on him. But it hadn't been her fault, and Bobby knew that. She wondered if the suffering would continue.

He had moved away from her side and was straddling one of the folding chairs that had been set up by the funeral home, leaning his chin on folded arms across its back. A familiar position…he was thinking. She wondered what he was thinking, not sure she really wanted to know, but more than willing to be there for him if he wanted to talk. She walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She pressed her body against his back and leaned down just a little to rest her chin on his shoulder. She rolled her eyes up slightly to look at the graying sky, suddenly noticing the nip in the air. "It's going to rain," she said quietly into his ear.

He just nodded. Then he tilted his head to the side in a gesture she knew so well. "You know, Alex," he said softly. "This is just a…technicality. Really. She left me…a long time ago."

"I know, Bobby." He fell silent again. She sighed. "Was your brother here?"

His older brother and only sibling. He had dealt with their mother's illness through an illness of his own. Addiction ruled his life. Bobby buried himself in his work, applying his brilliant mind to understanding the criminal mind in order to bring them to justice. His brother destroyed his mind with alcohol and gambled his life away, in more ways than one. Slowly Bobby shook his head. "No. But I didn't expect him to be. She was the only link we had left, so I guess he's gone now, too."

"But the next time he calls you begging for $10,000 to cover his ass, you'll give it to him." She hated it when anyone took advantage of him, and she had always put his brother in that category.

He shrugged, not noticing the bitterness in her voice. "I don't think he'll call again. He won't want to confront the...abandonment I represent any more. Mom abandoned us, and he abandoned me."

"Well, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere." She gently pressed her lips to his scruffy cheek. "Promise," she whispered into his ear. It was a promise he needed to hear, especially today. He took her hand from his shoulder and gently kissed it. Stepping back she let him stand and watched as he set the chair aside. She looked at the casket again. Walking forward, she dropped onto one knee and picked up a flower that had fallen from the casket. She brought the half-opened rose to her face, feeling its softness caress her skin as she inhaled its beautiful scent. Gently setting it with the others, near the head of her final resting place, she said softly, "Don't you worry about your Bobby…our Bobby. I'll take care of him for you."

Turning away, she joined him at the far end of the funeral canopy. Slipping an arm around him and leaning her head against him, she walked with him toward the car. It was the only one left. The first drops of cold autumn rain began to fall, like tears from the sky. A few more minutes passed and the lone car slid away from the side of the road and headed back toward the city.


End file.
